


Breaking Point

by LemonNinjaa



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Swearing, talks about Chester's family history a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2142411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonNinjaa/pseuds/LemonNinjaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike had been Chester's best friend since before Linkin Park became a thing. And you tell your best friend everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Point

Another day, another dollar… more struggle and less fulfillment.

Chester sighed, running his hand through his firetruck-red hair. He knew he had been taking a huge risk by throwing his Arizonan life away to try and satisfy his dream of being a rock star, but this was so much harder than he’d imagined.

He looked listlessly around the small, currently empty coffee shop he was working in. The beige paint on the walls was chipped and the laminate tables had scratches and gouges all over them. He hated his dead-end job but he just needed enough to survive for as long as it took for their band to get off the damn ground. He half-heartedly scuffed his foot on the ground, the dull incandescent lighting doing nothing to change his overly introspective mood.

The thought of the fledging band he was in made him think of his closest friend right now… Mike. Chester had no one else in this goddamn city, no one knew his name or would care if he overdosed or something. No one except Mike. Sure, there were other bandmates, but he didn’t have a bond with any of them like he did with Mike.

Michael fucking Shinoda. The one man who convinced him to move to a city in a state he’d never even been before, just to have a chance at being something more than a small band trapped within the borders of Arizona. Chester knew he had everything to lose and only a slim chance of gaining what he wanted, but fuck, did he want it.

Chester sighed again, moving from where he was standing still to finish wiping down the rest of the grungy tables. He was closing the store tonight, so he was the only one left at 10pm. The faster he finished, the faster he could go the fuck home – well, to Mike’s apartment. He curled his lip at the idea that he was squatting at the apartment of a man he only properly met a few months ago, but he rationalized the thought with the idea that they both wanted so badly to make music that satisfied them, that brought the edge back to the industry. It only made sense that they stick together, both to build camaraderie and to keep ideas flowing.

Chester quickly found himself finishing up in the coffee shop. He moved towards the back so he could turn off the lights, but his thoughts relentlessly beat their way back through his concentration. He paused with his hand on the switch, leaning against the wall as they barrelled through his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about how hard it was, couldn’t quell the thought that maybe, just maybe, this was a pointless endeavour. Maybe there was really no point in being here in L.A., in almost starving just to try and fan the flames of a childhood dream. Maybe he was better off going back home, where he didn’t have to work at a shitty coffee shop four days a week just so he could eat. But then… was it even much better back in Arizona, with all the memories of what happened there with certain people? He pounded his fist against the wall, hating that he couldn’t stop dwelling on his situation. This is what makes everything worth it when they finally make it as a band, right? Right? The typical struggle of a rock star before they finally make their breakthrough success and take the world by storm? Chester scoffed, flicking the lights off and shoving the coffee shop door closed behind him. He locked it, his mind on autopilot with everything spinning in his head. It was just so fucking hard. He was trapped between a place he used to call home and the place he now calls home, but neither of them really felt like home…

Chester opened the door of Mike’s apartment quietly, seeing the darkness broken only by faint light spilling out from under Mike’s bedroom. Thank God, he’s awake. Chester quickly locked the door behind him before dropping his stuff on a couch and half-collapsing against Mike’s bedroom door. He knocked just for the principle of the thing, knowing Mike would have picked up the sound of the apartment door opening. Hearing a muffled reply, Chester opened the door and saw his friend sitting in his chair, working on something. Seeing the familiar, open face of Mike turn to look at him, he couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face. A part of him watched detachedly as Mike’s face became concerned and the man leapt up to move closer.

“Man… What’s the matter?” Mike whispered softly, putting his hand on Chester’s shoulder.

“Dude, I just, this is just so fucking hard,” Chester sobbed. “I’m working in a fucking coffee shop just so I can eat, and sometimes it just feels like this is going nowhere. I’m so fucking sorry man, like I’m bringing all this fucking shit with me, the drugs and the demons and everything, and I’m so sorry.”

Mike guided him to the bed and they both sat, Mike rubbing Chester’s back. Chester tried to rub the tears away with his sleeves but they just kept coming.

“Like, you guys all must think I’m some fucking punk bitch who stupidly let drugs dig their way into his life but shit, my life has just been a shitfest of all these things I couldn’t control and I’m so confused, man, I don’t know what I’m doing or if I should even be doing this.” Chester hid his face in his hands, his voice becoming muffled before continuing on.

“I mean, I always wanted to be a rock star from when I was a little kid, and I just went through so much shit and now it feels like this is all just so insane and so wrong and I should just go back home and settle into a fucking 9 to 5 job and be normal and have kids and let them grow up and shit, because how the fuck am I going to make this work when I’m trying not to suffocate in my fucking past?!”

“Chester, look at me, man,” Mike coaxed gently.

When the man in question refused to look up, Mike brought his hand to Chester’s chin and tilted it up, forcing the teary eyes to meet his own.

“Whatever shit you’ve gone through, you got past it. You made it through. Look, we’re here now in my apartment in L.A., busting our asses to make something of ourselves. You can do this. We can do this. I know you’ve got it in you, Chester. You can always come to me if you need me, no matter what. I believe in you, and I believe that you and I can make something fucking awesome. Imagine all the things we can do with our potential, with our creative drive. Between the both of us, we have the will to create. We can do this. Just focus on what we can become, and we will fucking make it, I swear to you.”

Chester couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Mike, renewed sobs shaking his thin frame. Mike returned the gesture, holding the emotional man close. Voice muffled by Mike’s shirt, Chester spoke again.

“Fuck, Mike, you’re the nicest dude ever. I owe you so much for handling all my emotional bullshit all the time… Shit just wears on you, y’know? I’ve spent basically my entire life trying to self-medicate my pain with drugs, and I know it’s a fucking horrible decision, but I had no other choice… I was so fucking trapped and no one ever knew… And people still don’t know. They thought I was just being a stupid rebellious teenager, but I had no other way to cope.” Chester’s embrace tightened, and Mike kept silent, knowing there was nothing he could really say.

Chester drew in a shuddering breath, tears still flowing from his brown eyes.

“I was molested for the first time when I was 7 years old.”

The statement felt like someone had grabbed Mike’s heart and squeezed.

“It was somebody my family knew well. Fuck, I knew the guy well. But even though I knew it was wrong, I didn’t fucking say anything. I probably could’ve stopped it, but I didn’t! I was terrified of what people would say if they knew, what kind of horrible things they’d say to me. It went on for 6 years, Mike, 6 fucking years of my life tainted by somebody I should have been able to trust!”

Mike never stopped rubbing slow circles into Chester’s back, knowing Chester desperately needed comfort and reassurance as he finally talked about his past.

“My parents divorced when I was 11 years old, too. I felt so torn, so betrayed. I had nothing but music and drugs. I thrived on those things, convincing myself that if I forgot about the pain then it didn’t exist, that it wasn’t there and I was fucking invincible and nothing could touch me… that no one could touch me anymore. My closest friends were weed, alcohol, opium, meth, cocaine, LSD, any hard drug I could get my hands on. But now they won’t let me go. I just want it to stop, Mike, I just feel like everything I do is a mistake, like I’m a mistake! Sometimes I just want to fucking die, to just give up and quit and let the darkness take me, all that poetic bullshit. I just want things to make sense, I’m so afraid that I’ll be doubting everything I do for the rest of my life. Fuck, Mike, you’re my closest friend since I started spiralling downward. It felt like I had no one growing up, but now you’re my fucking rock, you make it that much easier to get through working at a fucking coffee shop. Thank you so much, you have no idea how much you mean to me, you make me want to get the hell away from drugs and really work hard to do something with myself.” By the time Chester had finished ranting, his sobs had abated and he was just quietly sniffling. Mike’s black shirt was soaked where Chester’s face was, but Mike didn’t even care. His only concern was getting Chester to feel better again, to bring that beautiful smile back and the infectious enthusiasm with it. Chester felt the vibrations of Mike’s voice from his position on Mike’s chest.

“Chester, you’re the strongest guy I know. I’ve never met anyone so driven, funny, intelligent, and talented as you. I’m honoured that you trusted me enough to tell me these things about you. But that chapter of your life is over now. You don’t have to worry about it anymore; the past is the past. Focus on our future. Together, you and I can make the next chapter of our lives fucking awesome. We just have to stick it out through this shitty time and I swear to God it’ll be so, so worth it in the end. We can do this.”

Chester shifted back, looking Mike in the eyes.

“Promise?”

“I promise. We’ll do whatever it fucking takes.”

Chester gave a watery smile, and Mike felt his heart stutter at the sight.

“Thanks, Mike, thank you for everything.”


End file.
